In the summer of 2012, six team members set out to complete a hiking expedition across Iceland, from the south to the north. The trek would incorporate the magnificent laugevegur hiking trail, followed by the harsh highlands, the Jökulsá á Fjöllum canyon and finally the coastline of the Melrakkaslétta peninsula by Öxarfjör›ur. Our plane set off on the 25th of June, arriving in the midnight twilight. Views of the Reykjanes peninsula showed a desolate and unfamiliar landscape with volcanic cones and the odd plume of steam.

We slept in the airport car park and began hitch hiking to the start point Skógar the next day. We managed to get lifts and were all deposited in various parts of the Reykjavik outskirts, although our exact location eluded us. Camping gas was easily found and purchased, but attempting to hitch a lift beside a motorway turned out to be fairly unproductive. Eventually we all managed by various means to find our way to the ring road of Iceland. Now the race was on. Each pair would have to use all of their hitch hiking prowess in order to claim the victory of reaching the start point first. In the end the first two groups had cheated by taking buses part of the way, and the final pair turned up much later after a tourist without a word of English took them via the ‘scenic route’. That evening we camped just upstream from the Skógarfoss waterfall.

The first day consisted of a 1000m climb up to the Fimmvörðuháls pass between Eyjafjallajökull and Mýrdalsjökull, mostly following the river. We were exhausted by the time we had reached the top, but the mountain hut was full, so we continued to follow a set of posts through snowfields and lava fields fresh from the 2010 eruption. We climbed to the top of a peak and rested on the hot rocks. There were vents in the ground spewing chlorine gas and precipitating sulphur, and only a small amount of digging (and burnt boots) gave temperatures hot enough to toast marshmallows on walking poles. Lava toasting requires great skill to generate the desired caramelisation. Once over the highest point of the pass we gave up walking the ice fields and slid down them, then pitched camp on a ridge with magnificent views: ice and steam on one side volcanos and sunset on the other.

On day 2 we began the descent to Skógar. Disaster struck when my rucksack rolled off the path when I set it down and it fell down the side of a steep valley, scattering its contents on the way. The rucksack was now slightly broken but still usable. We completed the descent to Þórsmörk, where there was a large river we needed to cross. We inadvertently walked past the bridge and attempted to ford further downstream. However, finding a tributary to be at our limit, we were forced to walk back to the mountain hut. The warden, after some bartering, agreed to offer membership price and so we spent the night in the comfort of the mountain hut.

The next day began with a walk up a sheltered gorge which was home to one of the few forests in Iceland. The lack of trees in Iceland is apparently mainly due to deforestation and erosion following the settlement rather than the harsh conditions. Only birch and willow species occur in Iceland. The forest also had a variety of other plants.

The walk from Landmannalaugar was along gravel road and we made encouraging progress despite leaving late. That night we camped near a hydrothermal power station by a river with suspiciously blue water. This did not seem to put off Harlequin ducks, one of the few Icelandic species not found in Britain.

The following 3 days were the most challenging of the whole trip. Now that the terrain was flat and we were walking on gravel roads, the distances covered in each day were much greater, and the blistering started in earnest. Added to this, our meagre supplies meant that we were very hungry, and passed the time talking about food. The walk took us onto the f26 Sprenginsandur road. This is the highland road that connects north and south Iceland between the Hofsjökull and Vatnajökull glaciers and passes through a barren desert of volcanic ash. The route is famous because it has no horse food for long distances so that the horses would have to be ridden almost to death to cross quickly enough. We passed along the shores of Lake Þórisvatn, the largest lake in Iceland. On day 9 we walked our longest day thus far so that we could spend a night near the mountain hut at Nyidalur. A short climb early in the day revealed a view of the Hofsjökull icecap to the left and the edge of the Vatnajökull icecap on the right, and between the daunting expanse of the Sprenginsandur stretching as far as the eye could see. The Sprenginsandur was not totally barren however. A few flowering plants were found in reasonable abundance. These were not Sprenginsandur specialists, but were rather found throughout Iceland.

When we arrived at the hut we were exhausted, but persuaded the owner to let us use the hut facilities while camping. The kitchen had a leftover shelf which we duly emptied, and the next day we discussed our route with the rangers at the hut.

Reluctant to leave the comfort of the hut we left late the following day, turning off the f26 soon after. A highlight was crossing a river via an ice bridge. The following day we found a small hot spring in which we could bathe our feet for a while. The area around the hot spring was a haven for some plants not found elsewhere in the Sprenginsandur.

The hot springs were the point at which we turned off the roads altogether and took a jeep track which had been recommended to us by a ranger at the hut. This was not on our map and turned out to basically be a set of tyre tracks which was very hard to follow and often seemed to go in several directions where drivers had taken detours. The track took us alongside a lava flow from the nearby shield volcano Trölladyngja. Shield volcanoes are produced by runny, basaltic melt, and make a contrast with the rhyolitic obsidian and pumice and steep cinder cones of higher silica melt seen a few days earlier. The scenery was a refreshing change from the Sprenginsandur proper with picturesque streams and fairly lush vegetation.

We walked east along a bridle path, then turned north on a gravel road that would bring us to the Jökulsárgljúfur canyon. We briefly increased our speed by introducing a hiking form of Cambridge bumps. However the rule of kicking the person in front after a bump turned out to be inconvenient. When we reached our designated campsite there was no stream to be found. There was however a massive road of which we could find no evidence of on the map. The GPS assured us that there had been no catastrophic navigation errors so we walked a few more kilometres to the edge of the main river, within earshot of the Dettifoss waterfall. The water in the Jökulsá á Fjöllum River was hardly ideal for consumption as it contained so much sediment, but we had no choice. The next day the strong north wind kicked up the volcanic ash, and a dust devil narrowly missed the campsite. Our attempts to leave water to settle had failed and there was now dust floating on top. The porridge for the morning was particularly delightful (and mineral rich) as we could not see the bottom of the pan of water and burnt smash from the night before detached and floated to the top. In face of the dust we goggled up and walked to Dettifoss, the most powerful waterfall in Europe. Being bored with the days of sun we got soaked in the spray at the viewpoint.

We made slow progress walking along a path the wound around the bottom of the canyon. It had a number of waterfalls occurring in steps which seemed to reflect the geology. Layers of structureless ash deposits alternated with columns and twisted pillars above. Each layer of columns produced a waterfall, a pattern imitated in the steps on the side of the canyon. The twisted pillars seemed to be very hard in places and produced magnificent spires.